


These Violent Delights

by Vetus



Category: Made In Abyss
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 02:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16484165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vetus/pseuds/Vetus
Summary: Ozen and Lyza have a rather unique relationship.Or, can you believe the amount of fucking innuendo (pun intended) in this show.





	These Violent Delights

**Author's Note:**

> Ozen. Look, Ozen. I’m already a Black Whistle, before long I’ll catch up with you. 
> 
> You’ve got some nerve to say that considering you cried when I hit you last night.

It was bare hands today and they were both aching and tired. Lyza was getting better, and she knew it. One day, she knew she could be an equal to her wonderful master, but that day was not yet. But it would be soon, and Lyza would train until it happened. For now, she fought to lose gracefully. She tried never to show weakness, and she never ever cried. 

“Enough,” Ozen said. “Five minute break, then again.”

Lyza dropped wearily to her knees, even as she mentally prepared for the next duel. She was going to prove herself, not for just herself, but for her master as well. The break ended, and she forced herself back into her feet. She raised her fists, and blocked Ozen’s first punch. She returned with one of her own, and so they continued…

———

It was later now, and the sun had long since gone down. Any lingering soreness in their bodies had been removed by a rejuvenation potion. Ozen didn’t believe in unnecessary irritation. Her philosophy was training to remove weakness, so why suffer it afterwards?

They sat in the synthetic illumination, shoulder to shoulder, hands clasped, enjoying the stillness. Their relationship had begun platonically, but Lyza had wanted more, and Ozen had found she couldn’t say no to the other girl. Now, it had almost become a part of training, and each found it freeing in their own way. 

“I could have done more today,” Lyza whispered. Ozen hummed, listening. “I made simple mistakes four times. Twice through exhaustion, once through confusion, once through lack of awareness.”

“Is that all?” 

Lyza’s voice quieted, in embarrassment. “I touched myself again last night, thinking of you.”

Ozen hummed again. “How many?”

“Five. One for each.”

“I think two for each is better. Don’t you?”

Lyza hung her head. “Yes,” she said, softly. 

“I want you to count and apologize for each one.”

“Yes,” Lyza said again. She kneeled across Ozen’s lap. Ozen stripped off her pants and panties. There it was, Lyza’s two pert cheeks, firm and circular and pale. 

Ozen admired them, even as she brought her hand down, leaving an angry red mark on the white flesh. 

“One. Thank you,” Lyza said, barely a quaver in her voice. 

Again. 

“Two. Thank you,” she repeated. 

Again. The red mark stood out more vividly, and took longer to fade. 

“Three. I’m sorry.”

Again. 

“Four. I’m sorry.”

Again. Lyza gasped at the blow, and shook. She stuttered, and nearly missed her count. 

“Fi—ve. I deserve this.”

Again. 

“Siiix. I deserve this,” she said, drawing out the number. 

Again. 

“Seven. I love you,” she said, voice steady. 

Again. The flesh was mottled now, blood pulsing. Lyza let out a choked scream. 

“Eight. I love you.”

Ozen hit her hard, almost viciously. Tears came to Lyza’s eyes. She couldn’t think. She didn’t know what she was to say. 

The next hit came. “N-n-nine. Th-thank y-you,” she sobbed. She had missed one. That meant she had to take another. 

The last one came. It hurt. She felt it. The tears were streaming hard down her face. “T-ten. L-love you.”

The hits stopped, and Ozen cradled her, kissing the tears on her cheeks away. She hummed a lullaby and Lyza fell asleep as her shaking calmed. 

———

She had woken up, and Ozen had attached these… instruments… to her. The clips had been painful, attached to her nipples. She had felt the teeth bite into her tender flesh, first the right, then the left, Ozen setting such painful devices almost gently upon her chest. Lyza had screamed a little. 

She had screamed more when forced to stand and walk. The clamps had tassels attached to them, and she had to make them sway. It felt like they were cutting her so deeply as she forced her legs to move, even as the tears flowed. She had been at her limit when Ozen had allowed her to kneel. She had cried in relief then. 

Ozen told her to put her butt in the air and hold still. Lyza expected punishment, and had braced herself. Instead, she felt something forcing itself inside her butt, and she embraced it. She held still, not seeing what it was. She heard Ozen sit down nearby and dim the lights, before lighting another bright light. But she didn’t look, remaining still, wondering what was inside her, and what Ozen wanted. 

She learned what it was all in an instant. Something sizzled on her butt, pain flared, and she arched her back. Ozen hummed disapprovingly. “I’m trying to read, Lyza. Please hold still.”

It was a candle. A candle with burning wax. It was unbearable for Lyza, not only the pain but also the uncertainty. She had no way of knowing when it would drip, and each second was agony. The more agitated she grew, the more she shook, and the more the candle dropped. She muffled her cries into the carpet. She had to stay still. Even as the candle burned and she hissed.

Finally, Ozen finished her reading. She blew out the candle, and turned back on the overhead light. “You may move,” she said. 

Lyza turned. It was as she feared, her entire butt was covered in wax, almost like a layer of armor. 

She held still as the candle, now burnt nearly to its base, was removed from her butt. She knew what was coming next. Ozen pulled the wax off, and Lyza screamed, long, and hard. Her nerves felt it coming off just like it had come on. Her scream ended in great gasping breaths. 

Ozen turned her over, and Lyza barely felt the pain of the nipple clamps now. She lay there, unable to move, feeling the soft carpet pushing into her back. 

Ozen adjusted something, and then Lyza felt herself being entered. Ozen thrust into her with the strapon. “Raise your legs up,” she said. 

Lyza shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t.”

“Yes you can. You’re a good girl, you can.”

Lyza somehow found the strength. She raised her legs, pushing them over Ozen’s shoulders. 

Ozen pressed deeply within her. Each thrust jostled Lyza and pulled the clamps on her breasts, but she didn’t even feel the pain anymore. She smiled through the tears as Ozen forced her body to its limit.


End file.
